Life Is Very Precious...

Yesterday, in the middle of the afternoon the door bell rang. (Someone at the door is always exciting, especially without any warning. As long as it's not someone trying to sell something.) Heading cautiously to the door I peer out the window and see a car in the driveway. Relief. At least they had to drive to get here so that must mean something. As I open the door I see a charming young man holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers. Immediately I scan my brain wondering WHO could be sending me flowers and for what reason? My partner is instantly off the list because flowers are frivolous and not money well spent. (Note to self. It didn't stop me from hoping)As I run down the list I soon realise it doesn't matter who they are from because anyone else is simply less exciting.

Pause
Why is it that women are conditioned to think flowers are more beautiful, meaningful and wonderful if only from the person you love and loves you most? I ask myself this question and I do not know the answer. I love flowers and I enjoy looking at them each and every day. But I digress. Back to the mysterious flowers.

Play

After signing for the flowers I quickly rip the plastic wrapping in order to find the card which says, "Life is very precious and thanks for saving Hazel's life. Your service was greatly appreciated!" I shake my head and sigh...

Rewind

About 4 weeks ago. Friday morning, 9:30am, during Jazzercise(which I teach) a student collapses. One of the other students yell for 'help' and I turn to see Hazel laying on the ground. It takes a moment for me to realise what exactly I'm seeing. (And in my mind the following events feel like they are happening under water, everything seems to take SO long however I have been told while recounting this story that what felt like minutes was mere moments.) I see Hazel lying on the floor and having what I think is a seizure. Immediately I stopped the class and run to where she's fallen and quickly ask someone to call 911. ( I know that if she is having a seizure there is little we can do for her other than to make her comfortable but I think it is better be safe than sorry.) Carefuly, I make sure she is lying on her side and while I am doing this I soon realise she is not breathing. From somewhere beside me I hear someone say she was chewing gum and I try to sweep her mouth to get the gum out. Frantically, I sweep and find no gum. I roll her on the her back, check her pulse and holler, "call 911 and this time tell them she's not breathing and we don't have a pulse."

Pause

At this point my mind is working in overdrive and I am amazed at how the human mind is wired. Fight or flight? I wanted to Fight but I also wanted to flee. I did not want to be responsible for what was about to happen. And let's face it. I had no clue what would happen. I kept thinking this was all my fault. I will never teach again. I thought of other students who had injured themselves and couldn't come to class anymore...I thought about ALL of this while I was trying to help Hazel. I also told Hazel she was NOT allowed to die. (Yep. Just like they do on T.V.)

Play

I swept Hazel's mouth one more time and in complete desperation and fear, I stuck my finger in as far as I could and found the gum! I managed, albeit, rather awkwardly, to get the gum out of her mouth. In that moment, all I was thinking was that I do not want her to choke on the gum. After the gum was out I soon realised the gum was the least of our concern. By this time the other students had gathered to stand helplessly around us. One of the students, who was in shock picked up Hazel's hand and started to massage it lovingly in hopes to encourage her back to the land of the conscious. And upon my disbelief at not having a pulse for Hazel she started checking too. We both kept checking and we came to the same conclusion. NO PULSE. We had to begin CPR and it was at that moment that I started to beg and plead with Hazel NOT to die. Not here. Not now. And most definitely NOT while I was in charge. It felt like an eternity for EMS to arrive. In actual time it was only about 10 minutes, but it was the longest 10 minutes of our lives. Everyone in the gym was pleading with Hazel and encouraging me. We all felt helpless together yet did everything that we knew how to do. The girls ran to move cars, made phone calls, and ran out to greet the EMS and Fire trucks so they knew where they were. They prayed for Hazel and they rubbed her legs and arms and talked as soothingly to her. They called 911 and reminded me that I was doing the compressions properly and we all waited together with great impatience for the medical team to arrive to take over so we wouldn't be responsible anymore.

Once the EMS got there they took over immediately(huge sigh of relief). In the end they used defibrillator 4 times and performed CPR on and off through a 30 minute period. They finally got her stable enough to go the hospital, and then I had to make the most dreaded phone call. Call Hazel's husband. So. I made it as brief as I could and simply said that Hazel had collapsed during class and the ambulance was taking her the to hospital and he should meet us there.

Hazel's story has only begun. Upon arrival the hospital they performed a multitude of tests, only to discover that she hadn't had a stroke or a heart attack. However, the following Tuesday, in the early hours of the morning she suffered a massive stroke and the cat scan revealed that she had other bleeding in the brain and the concluded she must have suffered a stroke during Jazzercise.

Hazel is still recovering and her road ahead is long. Currently she has pneumonia but is conscious and able to communicate with her family.

Fast Forward

...and I look at these flowers sent to me by the person who loves Hazel the most. Her husband. He truly believes that I saved her life. Semantics I know, but I don't feel like I saved her life. It was the combined effort of everyone that day that helped to keep Hazel alive until the medical professionals got there. Hazel's will power, our effort and the medical doctors knowledge is what saved her life and continues to keep her alive.

Presently
I have in my possession, a bouquet of flowers with a thank you card for saving Hazel's life. I will try to enjoy them. It is a reminder of who I am and what I helped to do. I am not a hero. I did what anyone would have done. Life is very precious indeed.